


ebb / flow

by spiraldistortion (bisexualthorin)



Series: one hour works [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26299675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualthorin/pseuds/spiraldistortion
Summary: Jonah knows it's true. Knows it like he knows that he couldn't save Barnabas and keep himself. Knows it like he knows that Barnabas would have dragged him back down, just when he had finally pushed his head above water and into the light. Knows it like he knows that Barnabas died full of love for him, settled in his lungs like seawater, drowned.
Relationships: Barnabas Bennett/Jonah Magnus
Series: one hour works [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862131
Kudos: 25
Collections: Associated Articles Regarding One Jonah Magnus





	ebb / flow

"You couldn't keep him forever, Jonah."

The words come to him as if from a great distance, ringing dull and hollow in his ears. Mordechai's voice is low, quiet even in the hush of this place, mournful but without grief.

Jonah stares at the bleached-white bones before him and doesn't look up.

"One way or another, you were going to lose him," Mordechai continues. "It was simply matter of time."

It's true. Jonah knows it's true. Knows it like he knows that he couldn't save Barnabas and keep himself. Knows it like he knows that Barnabas would have dragged him back down, just when he had finally pushed his head above water and into the light. Knows it like he knows that Barnabas died full of love for him, settled in his lungs like seawater, drowned.

It's better this way, he knows.

But the knowledge brings him no comfort. It stings at his eyes, burns in his throat, pushes against his teeth in a scream that threatens to spill out of him and rend him in two.

Jonah licks his wind-chapped lips and tastes salt.

"I've done you a favor," Mordechai tells him. He nudges the end of his cane against the side of one worn-smooth femur. It rolls to one side, pushing a shallow indent into the soft, wet sand before it falls back.

Jonah looks at the space left behind and thinks of fossils, thinks of memory. Thinks of empty arms and of unanswered letters and of the cold expanse of a once-shared bed. He lets his eyes slide shut against the tide emotion that falls on him, and breathes in, breathes out. Ebb and flow. Loss and gain. Inexorable. Inevitable.

"So you have," Jonah says at last, opening his eyes and looking up into Mordechai's face. "And for that I am grateful."

"Hmm," Mordechai hums, deep and rumbling as the waves that roll against the shore. "I expect recompense, of course."

"Of course. Rest assured, Mr. Lukas," Jonah says, smiles wide and dangerous, the sharp promise of threat in his voice. "I never fail to pay what is owed."

"Yes," Mordechai says, and though his face remains impassive, Jonah can see the glint of understanding in his eyes. "I'm counting on it."

**Author's Note:**

> feeling a bit melancholy tonight, lads
> 
> ***
> 
> I'm trying to write some shorter, timed stuff more frequently to take stress off from writing larger/more involved stuff all the time. So I'll be posting those in this series! The goal is to finish writing in roughly one hour and only do light editing so as to not overthink it. Almost all of these ficlets will involve Jonah Magnus and his group of 19th century bastards.


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